


Without, Within

by clusband (orphan_account)



Category: Hiveswap
Genre: Fluff, Other, Prompt Fic, Real juggalo lore, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-28 08:11:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17783762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/clusband
Summary: “Happy day of a thousand colors!” Marvus punctuates this with a rough pat to the top of your head, and you see the swirl of glitter and sugar come away from the palm of his hand. Ah, special stardust. That should be fun to wash out of your hair later. It must be a religious holiday.(AKA Take Me To Clown Church: The Fanfic)





	Without, Within

“u comin 2 church w me 2nite babe?”

 

Of all of the messages to wake up to on a Tuesday evening, this one is definitely the most perplexing. Church service isn’t usually until Saturday, around midnight. And, anyway, you always go with him- it’s become something solid in your lives. Something constant which none of your friends nor his fans can take away from you. You don’t even have time to finish thinking before Marvus texts you again.

 

“no pressure fam but im tryna see u haha ;o)”

 

You’re barraged by three more similar texts before you can even formulate a response. What is going on? He’s acting really weird- texting too quickly, not giving you a lot of time to respond. Is he nervous about something? You’re intrigued, and it’s not like you have any plans, and it has been a while since you’ve last seen your matesprit. What the hell- you text him back only to find out he’s already sent the lyft your way.

 

This gives you less than 20 minutes to get ready. Damn him. You shift through your closet. You’ve amassed quite the collection- castoffs from your friends, gifts (from Tagora, mostly), some passive aggressive pieces from Lanque, a few sweaters Chahut inexplicably found funny. You find a pair of black capris embroidered with little pink flowers Stelsa gifted to you (they are so tacky and you love them) and you pull on a sweater with little cats Lanque and Wanshi picked out for you once. It’s a happy outfit, full of good memories. You’re looking forward to a happy day.

 

The lyft arrives at the edge of your hive right as you start to do your hair- looks like it’s getting put up for now. You straighten out your clothes, smoothing your hair. Is this a date? Is that why he’s so nervous? You’re starting to make yourself nervous. You distract yourself on your chittr feed until you pull up to his hive.

 

He doesn’t answer when you knock, so you let yourself in. When you call for him, you hear his voice ringing out from upstairs. You check his respiteblock, but he’s not there, and he’s not getting ready in the bathroom either.

 

Finally, you find him in a room several doors down. He’s standing in front of several full length mirrors, half dressed and barefaced. His eyes widen at the sight of you, and he turns to face you.

 

“dam tho look at u L O L” he grabs you by the hand, spinning you so he can get a full 360. You laugh and ask him what exactly you’re getting into tonight- church service has never made anyone this anxious before- but he winks at you and brings a finger up to his mouth. It’s a secret, apparently. You pout at him, but he’s absorbed with choosing his outfit. He holds up two shirts- nearly identical- miming asking for your approval. You point to the left one on a whim, and he takes your word for it. You’re thankful that was so easy.

 

As you study him, a sudden realization clicks. Where you expected to see tension, he’s all loose lines and flowing movement. He’s dancing and bopping and humming a small tune when you finally see it- he’s not nervous, he’s excited. He grabs you by the hand, and you join him in his dancing. He raps and beatboxes as you hum and laugh with him. He spins you again before grabbing you by the waist, dipping you so he can press light kisses all over your face. You laugh together for a moment, happy to be close to each other. Without thinking, you wrap your arms tighter around his neck, bringing your mouth to his. You feel his teeth against your lips, smiling wide, before he kisses you back, once on the mouth, and again on your nose. Before you can pull away completely, he pulls your hand up to his face, kissing you on the wrist. You blush, heart racing, but he moves past you to his vanity to do his face.

 

You join him, plopping beside him to fix your hair. He’s silent next to you, focused, so you follow suit. Once you finish your braid, he hands you a ridiculous pink powder puff and a tin of setting powder. This is your favorite part- you love to see the transformation of his face from wet grease paint to a set, matte face. Plus, you love the smell. As you dab it gently into the tin, you notice this setting powder is a little different. It’s got an opalescent sheen or… something. As you look at the dust glimmer on the powder puff, he sneaks his hand behind yours and dabs it onto your face, laughing at his own prank. You sneeze and stutter for a minute, before retaliating. You get powder all over his shirt (good thing he’s got an identical one to change into), shaking the puff at him menacingly before he goes in for the kill. He’s ultimately stronger than you, but you laugh and struggle against him anyway as he blows raspberries onto your tummy, drawing his fingers up your shirt to tickle at your sides. Looks like his paint has set.

 

___

 

After the two of you clean up, it only takes about 15 minutes to get to church. As it rises up in the distance, you’re shocked at the atmosphere. At first glance, you think someone must have vandalized it- there’s what appears to be blood dripping down the walls, garbage is scattered all across the lawn, and, worst of all, there’s this awful thrumming sound coming from inside the church- did someone set up explosives? You look back to Marvus, gauging his reaction, but he still looks excited, joyful. As the limo stops in front of the church- and Marvus, ever the gentleman, helps you step out- you fit the pieces of the puzzle together. There are hundreds of clowns, cavorting, capering, and just generally causing a ruckus upon the lawn- how did you miss them? The doors of the church are wide open, and, as you listen closer, the deep, thrumming sound is music. Somebody must have turned the bass way up.

 

“Happy day of a thousand colors!” Marvus punctuates this with a rough pat to the top of your head, and you see the swirl of glitter and sugar come away from the palm of his hand. Ah, special stardust. That should be fun to wash out of your hair later. It must be a religious holiday. He laughs as he races and, honest to god, cartwheels up the lawn ahead of him. He looks back at you, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his smile wide on his face- it’s a stark contrast to the usual lazy smile he wears, his measured poise. His eyes shine more- you almost want to say they’re sparkling. It makes him look genuine in a way that you only occasionally catch glimpses of. You’re laughing too- it’s hard not to feel the spirit. Clowns everywhere are laughing and pranking each other, throwing colored powder and pies while slinging dirty rhymes based off of what you're fairly certain are hymns and religious anecdotes.

 

You race forward to join in, giddy- random clowns are grabbing you to dance and throwing pie and colored powder at you. As the powder hits you, you finally recognize the smell- pixie stix powder. Gross. Other clowns are more helpful, handing you packets full of the pixie stix dust and pie tins filled high with whipped cream. So you join in. Your aim isn’t great, but the clowns’ goal seems to be to get hit by as much of this stuff as possible. That makes it easier on you. Soon, your hands are a technicolored mess and you’ve got whipped cream all over your clothes and in your hair, but the clowns are delighted by your spirit, clasping you on the shoulder with an ‘amen!’ here, a ‘whoop whoop’ there, both of which you enthusiastically return.

 

You finally spot Marvus- he’s dancing in the crowd ahead of you, closer to the church, and you push through to reach him. His back is turned, the timing is perfect. You tap one of the clowns on the shoulder, gesturing towards your matesprit with a jerk of your head, and she hands you a pie with a sly smile and a wink. You wind up as Marvus turns, sensing you in the crowd. He barely has time to look surprised before he gets a face full of whipped cream. All of the clowns are ‘whoop whoop’ing and laughing with delight. You join them, doubling over, and your new friend slaps you on the back with humor, nearly knocking you over. Marvus looks at you, his features sly but delighted behind the mess on his face. He wipes off a stray glob of cream and presses it to your nose, laughing.

 

You get lost, playing this game with him. Clown church has turned to chaos in earnest- now that you’ve proved you’re down to clown with the best of them, you’ve become quite the target for pies, glitter bombs, seltzer sprays, and much more. One clown manages to pull a three foot handkerchief rope from behind your ear before spraying you with the flower in his lapel. Wow.

 

After about an hour of chaos, you’re slowing down; the energy of the crowd is no longer exciting you, but draining you. You remove yourself from the mass of clowns with much difficulty and find your way to the south side of the church. It’s surprisingly quiet- you realize a lot of the noise was the psychic raucous of hundreds of trolls. You slump against the back wall, sliding down to draw a knee up to your chest. You do your best to wipe off the detritus of the evening from your clothes and out of your hair, relishing in the quiet.

 

You aren’t the only one who was getting a little overwhelmed- you spot a mime themed troll braiding ribbons and bells and religious charms into the box braids of another troll who has contented herself with weaving a small ring out of the long grass that’s growing wild around them. She places this ring on the horn of the other, smiling shyly. There’s another trio of clowns who found solace in the shady west side of the building- they’re all pouring one out for the lost souls, praying and clasping each other on the shoulder. You feel at peace here- though you’re disconnected from the crowd at large, you’re seeing all of the parts of the whole tonight. The sadness and kindness and piety, as well as the acceptance and mania and revelry. It makes you think of Marvus. _Family,_ you think. You don’t waste time wishing he was here with you, because you know he’ll come find you in time. Instead, you close your eyes and raise your face up to the moons. The muted light and warmth reflect the warmth that you’re feeling within, and you let out a relaxed breath.

 

And, though it takes him time, he does find you. He slides down against the wall next to you, bumping your knee with his. You lean your head against him, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer to him with a kiss you your temple.

 

“...thanx for coming here wit me,” he smiles down at you shyly. It's a foreign look on his face, but a welcome one. “neva had sum1 to share alla dis wit.”

 

You let that sit, not sure how to respond. He asks you how you’re feeling and you draw his hand up to your chest, lazily lacing your fingers with his, letting him feel your heart for a few beats.

 

After you express your desire to wash your hands and face, he helps you to stand and you follow him into the church. It’s a lot quieter now- the music has been lowered as about 20 trolls have their heads bowed in silent prayer and reflection. People are speaking in low whispers, sharing secrets and hopes and grievances among themselves and to their messiahs. Marvus leads you into a back room, where there are sinks and mirrors but nothing else. Weird, but necessary if events get this messy often enough. You take your time getting yourself clean- you didn’t realize how much the sticky feeling on your skin was affecting you. You run your wet hands through your hair, too, and sigh in relief.    

 

You wander around the church for a minute, Marvus joins you silently, keeping pace with you, his hand soft at your back. You eye the stained glass and the paintings around the church. You love the stained glass depiction of a man juggling and looking absolutely livid about it- Marvus informs you he’s called Jack the Juggler. He’s part of a duo, and Marvus points toward the other brother, Jake the Just, on the opposite wall. He tells you about how they collect the hearts of the trolls you kill between them, and the more sins you’ve committed, the more hearts they juggle. If you see them drop a heart, you’re sent away from paradise.

 

You’re bursting with questions- what if you just don’t kill any trolls? Marvus frowns at this, looking guilty, so you don’t press him. Instead, you joke with him. You could just look away, you suggest. That way you never see them drop _any_ hearts, if they do. He laughs at this, but doesn’t comment, moving on.

 

Some of the paintings are truly ghastly- one has a troll being ripped apart from all sides by clowns (the subtitle reads _The Atonement of the Truly Horrendous_ , how awful). But one painting stops you dead in your tracks. It’s a clown, but she’s teal. She’s in the process of removing her legislacerator's uniform and her skin is covered in what you are pretty sure is mind honey. At her feet, there’s an emaciated troll- implied to be a goldblood, with their two sets of horns- and they’re grabbing her by the leg, drawing blood by digging their claws into the flesh her leg and her hip, and pulling themself up. They’re licking the honey off of her thigh, desperately. Starving. For all of the painting's nudity, it is completely devoid of sexuality. The legislacerator is looking toward the viewer with fury, and it chills you to your core. The subtitle reads _The Vengeful, Sent to Paradise_.

 

You ask Marvus the story about this painting. He tells you about how the goldblood (Nireyn the Blood-let) was unjustly framed for crimes against the empire. The legislacerator assigned to the case (Austyr the Vengeful) quickly fell in love with them- their honesty, their conviction. When the news of their budding moirallegiance became public, Nireyn was sent to the towers of stone, where they were starved, slowly burned from the heat of the daylight, and left for dead. Austyr was still sent to see them, forced to see if she could sniff out who helped them in order to stamp out the rebel forces in the area. As she realized she was backed into the corner, faced with losing her love and losing her case, she decided that she would never lose again. Forcing her hand, she covered her body in mind honey the next night, climbed up the steps of the tower, and let Nireyn vaporize her along with the whole station.

 

You don’t understand the religious or historical significance, but you the story strikes you nonetheless. You quickly send Tyzias a quick text with their names, asking her to remind you to tell her the story later- you think she’d appreciate it.

 

___

 

You fall asleep in the limo on the way home, and you fall asleep in Marvus’s arms again as he picks you up and brings you upstairs. You wake to the sounds of soft music- he must have brought you to his room- with your head on Marvus’s chest. He’s singing along to you, softly, but the words are difficult to make out. You pick your head up to kiss him on the jaw, and he tangles his fingers in your hair, smoothing and massaging against your scalp.

 

He sets you down gently on his couch and kneels before you, slipping his fingers up your shirt. He quirks an eyebrow, questioning. You nod, lifting your arms to help him take off your sweater. He presses gentle kisses against your belly and up your chest as he lifts it off. His hands are soft around your waist as you bring your arms around his neck, his purr comforting against you.

 

The two of you meet in the middle- you, smiling into the kiss, sleepy, and he, purring contently against your naked skin as he moves forward into you. He grabs you by the bottom of your thighs, seating you on his lap as he turns to recline lazily on the couch. You move closer into his personal space, letting your breath wash across his face before kissing at the corner of his mouth, his cheek (he’s still kind of sticky from the sugar), and, with your hand tight in his hair, pulling his head back, you place your final kiss at his neck before scraping your teeth against the skin there. He lets out a little huff- half laughter and half arousal. Your other hand finds purchase on his knee as you grind against him lazily. You can feel that he's just as sleepy as you are- he's holding you tight around your waist, feeling you all cozy and warm against him. 

 

You grind a little harder, then. You're still getting used to the way his bulge... moves. It's not as hard as what you'd find on a human, but the movement excites and stimulates you nonetheless- the way it presses up into you teasingly, how it undulates from side to side slightly. You gasp as he grabs you by the hips, pulling you flush against him to help you find more pressure. His mouth is on yours again, insistent, hungry for you. He tugs at your bottom lip as he takes it between his teeth, and he soothes you with a light kiss to the bruised flesh he left behind. With a quick scoot forward, he leans you backwards so that all of your weight is in his arms and in his lap, and he maneuvers the both of you so that you're underneath him. He combs his hand through the mass of his hair, pushing it in such a way that it spills all along the right side of him. You feel like you're in a pillow fort, with his face and body above you, his hair a curtain to your right, and the back of the couch solid against your left side. The only thing you can see is Marvus.

 

You look deeper at him- the love and care in his eyes never fails to surprise you, but something else is there, too. Conspiracy, like you're a secret only he knows. He smirks at you, his eyes growing heavy, before he grabs you behind your hips and grinds you into him again. You let your head fall back with a sharp inhale- you hear his breath pick up along with yours. You move one of your hands between your bodies and into his pants to swirl your fingers teasingly around his bulge before sliding down against the folds of his nook. His bulge wraps around your wrist as he lets out a content moan, his wetness drenching your fingers. He leans back, giving you more access to him- you're sorry for the loss, squinting at the sudden light. He throws his head back, fucking himself on your fingers for a few moments, his nook fluttering around you, before grabbing you by the wrist to pull your hand out of his pants. He untangles his bulge from around your arm with a ridiculous, frustrated look, as if he didn't realize that happened and it's really putting him out that it did. He takes his pants off, letting you move to sit up against the arm of the couch, giving him room to settle in between your thighs. He bends down, kissing at the line of your waist band, nuzzling his face into your belly as he helps to remove your pants. You sigh in relief as he brings his face to you- finally. His tongue teases around your clit for a moment before he brings his lips fully around you, sucking lightly as he dips his tongue into you. You notice the movement of his shoulders, and you look at him a little closer- he's touching himself, two fingers deep in his nook, his thumb circling around his pleasure nub, as the purple drips down his wrist and off his arm. Fuck, that's both really hot and honestly a huge relief- you're starting to feel too tired to reciprocate.

 

His moans rumble against you as you press your hips into his face. He's eating you out in earnest, now, his tongue a broad pressure against your clit as his lips continue to tease you. You feel him stiffen up against you, holding his breath for a split second before he breathes and pants deep against you, coming around his own fingers as he momentarily stills. He brings his fingers from his nook up to you and presses into you, his genetic material cool and slick against your folds, and its all over. You arch your back with a small shout as you pulse around his fingers, tensing from your feet up to your shoulders. Your hand grabs the skin of his back, raking your nails down as you slowly breathe and come back to yourself.

 

He plops down beside you, breathing hard and smiling fondly as he lines his nose up against yours. You delight in the crinkles at the corner of his eyes, the wrinkles at the bridge of his nose, before closing your eyes and kissing him sweetly on the mouth. The two of you snuggle for a minute before the sugar and sweat left on your skin becomes unbearable.

 

You help him stand from the couch- he bends down briefly to pick up your dirty clothes- and you lead him to the bathroom. He stands before the mirror, removing his facepaint, as you take the dirty clothes from him and throw them down the laundry chute. You don't believe for a second that Marvus knows how to do laundry, but you put that thought aside for another time. You get in the shower as he begins to comb the tangled sugar from his hair, and you relax in the warm steam as the water soothes your tired body.

 

He joins you right as you finish rinsing, but you stay in the shower with him anyway. He sits to let you wash his hair while he scrubs at his body. You rest your head on the top of his as he works the conditioner out of the ends of his hair, crossing your arms over his chest and humming in your best approximation of a purr. You're too tired to say anything, but you're content with the comfortable silence between the two of you, finding joy in just being here with him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I wrote this in an attempt to cheer myself up after getting caught in a heavy downswing, so I apologize if this fic is a little moody and introspective in some places.
> 
> For the record: The Jekel Brothers (Jake and Jack) are real parts of juggalo lore. I've trollified them a little bit here, but the part about them juggling hearts is real.


End file.
